


A Treatise For The Care of Immature Dragons In Conjunction With The Avoidance and Procrastination of Graduate School Studies

by RobinLorin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 19:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11766936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinLorin/pseuds/RobinLorin
Summary: My favorite thing ever is how Ron just sent Charlie a random letter like “hey yo there’s an illegal dragon at hogwarts, could you come and smuggle it out of here, please?” and Charlie was just like “yeah sure, I’ll trespass into the castle and steal a dangerous magical creature, of course, lemme just hit up my friends” -darlinghogwarts





	A Treatise For The Care of Immature Dragons In Conjunction With The Avoidance and Procrastination of Graduate School Studies

**Author's Note:**

> ~ this isn't completely canon ~
> 
> the original post was made by @darlinghogwarts on tumblr!

Charlie is drunkenly revising the third draft of his thesis on proper care and feeding of greenhorns when his family owl slams into the window. 

Three of his friends jump and look around. Glinda doesn’t raise her head from her folded arms; only groans, “Is that Baines coming to do me in?” 

Charlie totters to the window and fetches Errol from the window pane. “No such luck,” he says. “You’re still going to have to take the exam.” After some consideration, Charlie lays him on a clear patch of floor to recover. “Do owls take firewhiskey?” he asks the room at large. 

“It’s not  _fair_ ,” Glinda wails into the tabletop. “I  _swear_  he didn’t say anything about Bridgewort’s handling practices when we did the review in class.” 

“Oh, Merlin,” says Ali, freezing over their notes like a Medusa wyvern had bitten them. “Oh, Merlin’s sweet saggy socks. Is he covering Bridgewort?” 

"Better not," Charlie says, even though no one is listening. "Flying under the influence is not really done, my lad." He boops Errol on the nose. Errol looks confused. 

“That’s what he said when I went to his office hours.” Glinda sits up. “You know his lapdragon singed my new sweater?!” 

Charlie unties the letter from Errol’s leg. Ron’s childish spiky handwriting spells out Charlie’s name on the front. Inside is a hastily scrawled message. 

“Yes, we know it ruined your sweater,” snaps Ysabelle. “You told us twenty times. Why didn’t you tell us Baines told you we’re going to be tested on Bridgewort?” 

“I meant to,” says Glinda. “Sorry.” She flicks her pile of notes. “I was lost in the miasma of gloom and desperation.” 

Ali puts their head back and groans. “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna say ‘fuck it’ and just fucking walk into a dragon’s mouth so I don’t have to do this.” 

“Hey,” says Charlie. They don’t hear him. 

“How much is this worth again?” Glinda asks her bottle of butterbeer. 

“Twenty-five percent,” Ali and Ysabelle chorus. Ysabelle adds, “and the thesis is fifty percent of our total grade.” 

“Hey!” Charlie repeats. They look at him. He waves Ron’s letter. “My littlest brother at Hogwarts has an illegal dragon he needs to get off campus. Anybody up for a midnight flight?” 

Ali slams their hands down on the table and stands up. “ _Fuck_  yes,” they say decisively. “Maybe I’ll fly into the Whomping Willow and die a quick death.” 

Five hours later finds them soaring over the Hogwarts grounds. It's been long enough since Charlie proposed the idea that the haze from the studying cache of Firewhisky has worn off. Some members of the party are reconsidering the trip. 

"I mean, will this really hold a baby Norwegian?" Glinda calls from behind the glittery scarf wound around her head.

"Regretting breaking the law, Lindie?" Charlie teases her. 

"No way. Are you kidding me? Even though the wind is way stronger than I thought it'd be, and fingerless gloves were not the right choice for this venture. I'm just saying, it's going to be a tight fit." 

"It's the only size we could filch, so it's got to work," says Ali. 

"It'll be fine, worrywart." Ysabelle tries to tap the suspension system they've got hooked between their brooms, and nearly overbalances. "GahaAackckkkkkkcdAFPLFkdsckdkkdsk--" She rights herself and gags. "Thanks, Glinda, but maybe next time don't grab me by the scarf." 

"No problem!" Glinda trills. "Look, there's the Whomping Willow! Merlin, I miss this place." 

"That's my cue, folks," says Ali, and makes as if to point their broom toward the tree. 

"Don't crush yourself to death yet," says Charlie absently. "We need four broomsticks to support this thing. Besides, I need to steal your notes from Bornsythe's lecture that I missed." 

"Charles Weasley," says Glinda sternly, "you can't stop a person from trying to bash their brains out just because you got a case of mugworm's lung and missed two weeks of lectures. It's just selfish." 

Ysabelle snorts. It devolves into coughing. 

"Oh yeah," says Charlie as they near the tower that's supposed to be the exchange place.The darkness atop the tower solidifies into two smallish shapes with a crate between them. "My little bruv's gotten friendly with Harry Potter, apparently, so don't freak out on him or anything." 

"Oh Merlin," Ysabelle squeals. "Oh my sweet tree-hugging Merlin." 

They make the landing together, not as smoothly as Charlie would have liked but at least in synch. Ysabelle practically throws her broom aside in her eagerness to get to the two kids huddled around a dragon crate. 

"Ysabelle, I mean it, don't--" 

"Baby!" Ysabelle crouches in front of the crate, completely ignoring the kids -- the aforementioned Harry Potter and some frizzy-haired squirt -- in favor of peering into the crate. "Baby dragon! Hi baby! Aren't you the cutest dragon baby! Oh, you're a big one! A big dragon girl! You're beautiful, aren't you? Yes, you are!" 

Ali joins Ysabelle on the ground, cooing and poking at the crate. This leaves Glinda to thank their intrepid rule-breakers, and Charlie to reassure them that the Norwegian Ridgeback will be safe in their care. 

Charlie allows himself one coo before they take off. He's not even ashamed that The Boy Who Lived hears him say, "Hello, snoochums!" to the dragon. 


End file.
